


Petulant

by formalizing



Series: Tumblr Writing [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Bulging, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirty Talk, Feminization, M/M, Oral Fixation, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formalizing/pseuds/formalizing
Summary: Sam can be a boiling-blood petulant boy when he’s given orders that don’t start with ‘baby’.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intrepidheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrepidheart/gifts).



> Originally posted [on Tumblr](http://all-these-formalities.tumblr.com/post/141710421934/this-gif-was-sent-to-me-by-samsbangs-in-the-hopes).
> 
> In response to a gif sent to me by [@samsbangs](http://samsbangs.tumblr.com/) in the hopes that it might “inspire some wonderfully beautiful oral fixation samdean ficlet.”

Sam’s a noisy boy; his mouth is always busy. It’s soft in a classroom and sharp in an argument. Sam can be a boiling-blood petulant boy when he’s given orders that don’t start with ‘baby’— _baby_ , bend over so I can see it, _baby_ , suck a little harder, here it comes, swallow, _baby_ , swallow.

That mouth never needs to be told to swallow, but Dean likes the look in Sam’s eyes when he’s being obedient.

Those pillow lips are always parted when he’s on Dean’s dick. Even when he’s riding more cock than a boy his age is built to take, so much more than he should be intimately familiar with, he still moans like he’s empty. He is a needy, two-holed boy, can’t stand the air on his wet tongue; he wants to be full in every soft, pink place he has.

“Jesus, Sam, _shut up_ ,” Dean hisses, covering Sam’s mouth with one firm hand. Even little sounds are loud through thin motel walls, and Sam’s sounds aren’t half as little as he is. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

Sam narrows his eyes, and Dean can feel that up-to-no-good smile against his hand before Sam pulls his mouth free.

“Make me,” he dares, clenching around Dean’s cock, slowly squeezing the trigger of a gun he’s not ready for the kickback on.

It’s not quite a gunshot sound, but the headboard definitely rattles when Dean flips Sam to his back, digs bruises into skinny, growing-boy thighs as he pulls them wide and pins them down, rolls on top and in between them.

“Open your mouth,” he growls, and Sam swallows hard, licks his lips like he’s tempted, but doesn’t do as he’s told.

“Or what?” he pants, wide eyes sparkling. He can be a smart-mouthed little brother boy when he thinks he’s going to get exactly what he wants, just like he always does with Dean.

“Or I’ll fucking leave you here,” Dean says, sliding two fingers easy into the open space his cock left between Sam’s legs, curling them up and pressing until Sam’s whining, knees digging hard into Dean’s sides as his shaky legs instinctually try to close. “I’ll leave you right here, Sam, legs spread and panties on the floor; don’t think I won’t. And y’can try and fill this greedy hole with just those skinny fingers of yours, but they won’t feel half as good as this dick, will they, baby?”

Sam shakes his head against the pillow, gasping, “No, not as good, Dean. Please.”

“Then open. Your. Mouth,” he punctuates each word with a resounding smack of his hand against Sam’s ass, and Sam’s trembling bottom lip drops open even before the hand prints start to show in red on his skin.

Dean shoves two fingers deep enough to make him gag, mirrors the action in his other hole, and Sam has to swallow hard around them to empty his watering mouth.

“That’s it,” Dean says, softer now that Sam is sweetly French-kiss tonguing the seam between his fingers in apology. “Now reach down and hold that pussy open for me. Kinda got my hands full.”

He twists both sets of fingers splitting Sam open to prove the point, and Sam whimpers as he presses his feet flat to the sheets and lifts his hips. He gets one hand on each cheek and pulls them apart to give Dean a perfect view of his own thick fingers buried deep inside, where Sam’s slick and sore and red with use.

“ _There_ it is. Fuck, you’re a mess,” he murmurs, spreading his fingers as far as he can get them inside the tight grip of Sam’s ass, dragging them out slow to rub around the wet, abused rim, slapping it once with a sloppy sound before slipping back inside with three. Sam whines, high-pitched and desperate. “Just how I like you.”

Sam turns to hide his face in the pillow, like maybe he’s shy and blushing, maybe he’s never been exposed this way before; sometimes he likes to pretend he’s not the filthy, fuck-hungry boy Dean’s seen every secret inch of.

Dean fishhooks his fingers in Sam’s cheek and twists him back.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growls as pulls his fingers out to grip his dick, pressing the head teasingly at where Sam’s hole is already fluttering around the emptiness he left behind, trying to close back up good and tight. “Wanna see your face when I pump you full of come. Gettin’ filled’s your favorite part, ain’t it, Sammy?”

Dean can almost hear the back-talk in the way Sam lets his teeth scrape Dean’s knuckles, bites down with a flash of white teeth on his fingertips when they’re all that’s left between his lips. _That’s not my name_.

“Be nice, baby,” Dean says, smirking as he stuffs his cock back inside without warning, has to grip with his whole palm over Sam’s mouth to muffle the cry he makes.

When Sam quiets down, Dean uses his tongue instead, licks up the low, achy sounds Sam makes when he’s getting dicked as deep as he can handle.

Dean splays the fingers of one hand on Sam’s abdomen, runs his thumb teasingly against the slit of Sam’s dick, where he’s leaking for attention. Sam bucks his hips, whole body clenching and stomach tensing on a gasp, and there, against the skin of his brother’s poverty-hollow belly, Dean can feel the bulging outline of his cock where it’s tucked deep inside, making a place for itself where it shouldn’t fit.

He pulls back to get a better look, and Sam sucks in like he’s trying to fit into an outfit that’s two sizes too small, brings one hand up to slide his fingers into the gaps between Dean’s own. His whole body shivers when he presses down and feels the firmness of it.

“You’re so big,” he murmurs, voice sweet and soft, like he’s that first time virgin-boy again, begging to be touched in ways he doesn’t even understand yet. Innocent words have never sounded quite the same from that mouth since the first time it was full of come.

“And you’re takin’ it all so good for me. Y’take dick better than any other girl I’ve had,” Dean says and bites Sam’s lip, thrusting faster because he was on-edge even before Sam crawled up in his lap, already warmed up and wet for him. “Gonna come for me, too? Like the way you squeeze when you’re blowin’ your load.”

Sam nods, makes a sound that is just short of a sob when Dean gets both their tangled fingers around Sam’s dick and tucks it down against Sam’s stomach so that every thrust nudges their cocks together through the skin. He goes almost painfully tight when he comes, teeth pinking his teeth to make sure he does it quietly.

Dean groans, “ _Good_ boy,” when he buries himself deep and fills him up as promised, and Sam sighs happily into his ear.

A trickle of come follows the head of his cock as he pulls out and sits back on his knees, looking down fondly at the drippy mess he made of Sam’s hole while he catches his breath. It can’t even close up properly it’s so well-stretched and puffy at the edges.

Sam cants his hips up and slips a hand down between his legs, drags one finger through the spillage before bringing it up to his lips and sucking it between his fingers like a kid licking frosting remnants from the mixing bowl.

Dean hisses in a sharp breath as his spent cock throbs between his legs at the sight.

“Keep that up and y’might get it in both ends yet tonight.”

Sam smiles lazily around his finger, drags it out from between his lips with a deliberate pop, eyes half-lidded and challenging.

“Promise?”

It’s not likely that he’ll ever fuck the attitude out of Sam entirely; he’s not sure he even wants to.

Dean runs his thumb over Sam’s damp lower lip as he imagines that mouth stretched wide, those heavy eyes wet with just a hint of tears as Dean fists one hand in Sam’s hair and fucks past his gag reflex.

Well, there’s one sure-fire way to keep a noisy boy quiet.


End file.
